


All Things Beautiful

by useless_slytherclaw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Death, F/F, First War with Voldemort, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, They die, Tragic Romance, dorlene, everyone dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22455637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useless_slytherclaw/pseuds/useless_slytherclaw
Summary: One morning Dorcas Meadowes kisses Marlene McKinnon goodbye for the last time.  Nine days later Dorcas dies trying to avenge her.  But, there's an afterlife.
Relationships: Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	All Things Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by a post on tumblr: [All things soft and beautiful and bright](https://softsiriusblack.tumblr.com/post/188147701195/when-she-died-all-things-soft-and-beautiful-and)
> 
> This piece is about grief. Be gentle with yourself.   
> Also, mentions of homophobia.

_Dorcas Meadowes walked down the corridor away from her Arithmancy lesson. Her footsteps echoed slightly in the empty hallway. The laughter and chatter of the students who were the lifeblood of the castle streamed towards the great hall and lunch. But, Dorcas moved towards Marlene._

_She was most of the way to her destination when she heard something that sent ice down her spine._

_Marlene sounded afraid, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” To most people, Marlene would sound angry and Gryffindor bold, but Dorcas could hear the fear beneath. Marlene was alone, there shouldn’t be anyone in these hallways. Dorcas started running._

_“Come off it, McKinnon. I’m being friendly.” Bartemius Crouch’s arrogant voice echoed in the empty hallway._

_“Give your ‘friendliness’ to someone who wants it.” Dorcas could practically see the defiant expression on Marlene’s face. There was a pause. “Actually, I’m sure that person doesn’t exist.”_

_“Feisty.” He said. Dorcas cringed. Then he said, “I’m a Crouch, McKinnon. You’d be lucky to have me.”_

_“Not interested, so fuck off.”_

_Dorcas came around the corner then. Marlene was pressed against the stone wall. Crouch was crowding her, a leer on his face. His tongue flicked out and licked his lips._ ugh _._

_“Get away from her!” Dorcas’ voice sounded hard and rough to her own ears. The sight of this Death Eater wanna be inches away from her girlfriend made her heart pound. It was slamming into her chest so hard she thought it might bruise. She refused to allow her hand to shake as she leveled her wand at Crouch, who turned to face her._

_“Jealous, mudblood?”_

_“Step away, you creep.” Crouch didn’t move. With a slash of her wand, Dorcas sent him flying back. Her anger turning the knockback jinx violent. He got to his feet, looking furious as Dorcas approached. The roar of her blood was hot and angry in her ears. Dorcas started the wand motion to bombarda him into the nearest wall, but her wand went flying. Expelliarmus? Who else was here? It didn’t matter. Dorcas flung herself forward. So what if she didn’t have her wand? Her fist smashed into Crouch’s noise. She felt it snap and heard him cry out. But when Dorcas pulled back, she wasn’t in the Hogwarts’ hallway. She was surrounded by Death Eaters. She desperately summoned her wand, but she could do nothing about the green light streaking towards Marlene’s chest. She opened her mouth to scream, to do something--_

Dorcas sits bolt upright in her bed, heart pounding as hard as it had been on that day three years ago. Marlene is curled up next to her, and she realizes now that she’d been dreaming. She rubs her face tiredly; she’s had so many of these nightmares, always waking up right before Marlene died. 

The earliest beams of sunrise are streaming through the window and Marls looks sweet and golden in the soft light. Dorcas lays back down, closer to Marls. She remembers Regulus Black, his new prefect badge flashing, looking down his nose at her after she punched his housemate. She remembers him asking what had happened, and Marls snapping something about Crouch copping a feel. She barely remembers Black telling Crouch that was vile behavior as she hurried Marls away. They stopped meeting in empty hallways after that.

Dorcas reaches out and smooths sleep tousled honey hair. Breathing in the scent of vanilla and peppermint, she buries her face in the curve where Marlene’s neck meets her shoulder. Her palm slides across Marls’ shoulder and over her strong arms where the muscles are hard under soft, soft skin. Marls could have played for the Holyhead Harpies. Dorcas settles her hand on the perfect dip of Marlene’s waist: both soft and strong at once. Marls _should_ be playing for the Holyhead Harpies, but she said that the war needed healers not beaters. Dorcas hopes there will still be a place on the team for her when the war is over.

The sun is barely in the sky, but Dorcas knows she won’t be able to sleep. She moves her hand from Marlene’s waist to the swell of her hip. She admires the coffee and cream contrast of her hand on Marlene’s skin. As her hand moves further down, she can feel the steel of leg muscles under silken skin. Her hands wander as she revels in the fact that Marls is hers to touch and admire. 

She remembers years of trying not to watch Marlene. When Marlene was sweaty from quidditch and stripped down to her sports bra and Dorcas thought the sight might just kill her. How Marlene could turn the stupid school skirt into something that made Dorcas sigh. When she’d wanted so desperately to Marls how she felt and realized that if Marls beat her up, she’d probably enjoy that too. 

“Can’t sleep, babe?” Marlene’s sleepy voice brings her back to the moment.

“Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Issokay,” Marlene says and rolls so that they are facing each other.

Dorcas stares down into sky blue eyes. They are the blue of the sky in the heat of summer, close to noon. The sort of blue that happens only a few times a year. They are framed by eyelashes and eyebrows the same honey blonde as her hair. She knows that Marls’ wishes they were darker, but Dorcas likes them how they are. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Dorcas says, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to sleepy lips. Marlene snorts. The abrupt sound breaks the mood, and Dorcas laughs. Dorcas slides one hand from Marlene’s hip to the curve of her bottom and tangles the other one into honey blonde hair.

Marlene leans forward and presses an eager kiss into Dorcas’ lips. One of her hands is already sliding up under Dorcas’ t-shirt. “Since we’re awake,” Marlene says into her lips. A split second later, Dorcas’ back is against the bed and Marls is braced on one elbow above her. 

* * *

Hours later Dorcas is sitting at Order headquarters. The meeting finished twenty minutes ago, but they always leave one by one or in pairs. Another safety measure. Dorcas has another eight minutes before she can leave. She’ll go back to the flat. Maybe Marls will already be home, and they can continue where they left off this morning.

“Where’s Marlene?” Lily Evans appears at the door to the dining hall half out of breath.

Dorcas stands up. Her heart is racing; these sorts of questions are never good. Not now, not with the war. Marlene’s little sister got her Hogwarts letter today. She’d gone for dinner at her parents’ place. “At home, why?” 

Lily must have assumed Dorcas meant that Marlene was at their flat because otherwise, she would have been more careful with her words.

“Dark mark sighted in Ilkley **.** ” 

Marlene’s parents lived in Ilkley. 

“No.” The sound was more an exhalation than a word. For a single moment, Dorcas is staring at Lily and then she’s gone with a crack. Dorcas slams into the ground on the pavement of Marlene’s parents’ walkway and is already moving. The world is green from the Dark Mark overhead. She draws her wand. 

Dorcas steps over a body covered in black robes as if she’s stepping over a crack in the sidewalk. But, she stumbles to a stop at the steps. Someone’s sprawled across them: a woman, with shoulder-length blonde hair. No. 

Her knees go out from under her and slam painfully into the pavement. Her knees are bleeding, but she doesn’t notice. She reaches out with shaking hands. She knows the shape of Marlene’s shoulders, the line of her leg, the curve of her hip, she would know them all without looking. She wishes she wasn’t looking. No.

She grips Marlene’s shoulders. She’s warm, she’s warm! Dorcas is fumbling for her pulse with one hand, pulling her into her lap with the other. But, as she turns Marlene’s face to hers, she knows. Those cerulean eyes are staring into infinity. No.

“Marls,” she whispers. Her eyes are burning. She cups her hand to the perfect sweep of Marlene’s chin. 

“Please, Marls. Please, Babe.” She’s shaking so bad that Marlene’s body is also trembling.

“Rennervate!” She casts the spell without thinking. The spell hits Marls in the chest but nothing happens. No.

“Rennervate!” Nothing. 

“RENNERVATE!” The strength of the spell makes the air smell like ozone.

“Marls, please. Babe.” Dorcas isn’t sure who she’s begging. All she knows is that Marlene cannot be dead. She _can’t._ Because Marlene is sunlight and happiness. Because Marlene is the world and Dorcas doesn’t exist without her. 

“Please. Please. God, Please. Not, Marlene.”Marlene isn’t dead. 

Someone places their hand on Dorcas’ shoulder. “Dorcas-”

“No, no, no.” Dorcas isn’t sure whether she’s whispering or screaming or even speaking at all. All she can see is Marls’ face. There’s a cut on her cheek that Dorcas didn’t see before. It’s not bleeding. Her skin looks sickly in the green light. Dorcas is staring into those blue eyes that she has looked into hundreds, no thousands, of times, but they aren’t looking back. 

Someone is pulling her back. “No!” She’s clutching Marlene as hard as she can. Marlene: her angel, her life, her everything. Everything in the world that matters is in her arms right now. They won’t take her away. 

She can’t take her eyes off Marls. She can’t breathe anymore, but she doesn’t care. She can’t breathe and her lungs are starting to hurt. But, Marls is gone, so it doesn’t matter anymore. The world is going black around the edges. Even Marls’ face is fading. Instead, memories flash in front of her eyes. Marlene, her eyes sleepy in the morning. Marlene, grinning and sweaty after a quidditch game. Marlene, biting her lip while she’s doing transfiguration homework. Dorcas faints. Her mind is full of the bright whirlwind that was Marlene McKinnon. 

* * *

Dorcas wakes suddenly. Where is she? She’s not in her bed. The ceiling above her is the wrong color. Instinctively, she reaches out beside her to where Marlene should-- Marlene. Dorcas bolts upright. It was all a dream. It has to be a dream. She turns to put her feet on the ground and find Marlene. She has to see Marlene. But someone puts a hand on her shoulder. 

Lily is sitting next to her, with a hand on her shoulder. Her face is white and red from crying. It tells Dorcas that it wasn’t a dream.

“Marls?” Dorcas asks because she has to. Because it can’t be real. Marlene can’t be gone.

“Marls is dead, Dorcas.”

“No.” Dorcas feels her eyes burning. Marlene wasn’t even supposed to be there. Marlene should have been in their flat. Their flat with its wards and its safeguards. But _it’s Leah’s birthday, Babe, I have to go._ Dorcas should have gone with her. Even if the McKinnons didn’t want Dorcas in their house. Dorcas should have been standing beside Marls when the Death Eaters came. 

“Not Marls,” Dorcas whimpers. _It should have been me._ She wants to scream. _I should have been there._

Lily just wraps her arms around Dorcas’ shoulders and holds her.

* * *

It’s been nineteen hours since Marlene McKinnon died. Dorcas is sitting at headquarters, in the study. She’s staring out the window, looking at nothing. 

“I’m worried about her,” Lily is standing just outside the room and she’s whispering, but Dorcas can still hear her. Dorcas rolls her eyes at Remus Lupin, who is sitting in a chair next to her. She thinks that he looks much older than his 21 years, but she probably does too. This war is aging all of them. She thinks about how strange it is to see him relaxing without a book in his hand, without Sirius Black beside him. Sirius and Remus were always together just like her and Marls. At the thought, her breathing hitches from the pain.

“She cares,” is all Remus says. Dorcas rolls her eyes again. 

“So, she’s making you babysit me?” Dorcas demands. Remus shrugs.

“I have to wait for Dumbledore.”

“It has nothing to do with keeping me here,” Dorcas says, clearly not believing. Remus gives her a wry smile. Part of her hates that he can smile. Part of her realizes that’s not fair.

“If Lily had died, Sirius and I would have to put James in a full body bind to keep him safe. Probably sit on him too.” Part of her wants to smile at his joke, but the rest of her can’t smile.

“And if it had been Sirius?” She asks instead. 

“I don’t know,” is all he says. Dorcas understands. Nineteen hours ago, she wouldn’t have known either. She had thought about losing Marls a hundred times during this war, but nothing compared to the reality.

“She’s all that I had,” Dorcas tells him because she thinks Remus will understand. Because Remus is a werewolf that society doesn’t want. Because Remus’ parents already died in this war. Because he’s also queer. 

“Yea?” He says. Lily or Mary would have argued with her, but Dorcas is glad that he doesn’t.

“My parents found out. They told me-” she chokes up for a second, “they told me to choose them or her. I chose her. I always chose her.”

Remus nods. He doesn’t make her talk. He doesn’t ask her about it. She’s grateful.

* * *

It’s been three days and five hours since Marlene died.

Dorcas is still standing at the gravestone. She doesn’t remember how long ago the funeral ended. It doesn’t matter. The entire funeral was a blur. It’s mostly their school friends because Marls’ entire family died in the house with her. _I should have been there_. Some of the McKinnons’ family friends had been there. Dorcas stood alone. 

Dorcas can’t seem to look away from the gravestone. It’s as if when she turns around, when she walks away, that it’ll be real, really real. Instead, she kneels in the grass, not giving a single damn about her nice robes. None of it matters. She runs her hand over the inscription she chose: _all things soft and beautiful and bright._ And the rest of it echoes in her head “ _when she dies, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with her.”_

There are no flowers on the grave because Dorcas can’t stand to look at them. They don’t have the right to be alive when Marlene is gone. Dorcas presses her hand against the gravestone so hard that it goes white. She wishes the stone would swallow her and put her next to Marlene in the cold and dark. She doesn’t have the right to be alive when Marlene is gone. But the stone doesn’t swallow her. So, she’s still there kneeling in the grass, alone.

Dorcas pushes herself to her feet. She should have been there beside Marlene. But she wasn’t. Dorcas is going to find the people who killed Marlene; the people who took the light out of Dorcas’ life. She’s going to kill them.

“I love you, Marls.” She whispers, running her hand over the stone one more time before walking away.

Lily and Mary are waiting for her. She hadn’t even noticed them. She should feel grateful that they are here, but she feels nothing. It’s like her heart has been pulled right out and buried with Marlene, where it belongs.

* * *

It’s been five days and fourteen hours since Marlene died and it’s 2 am.

Dorcas can’t sleep. The bed is cold without Marlene in it, and the ghost of her scent on the pillows makes Dorcas’ heart hurt. So, she’s sitting on the lumpy couch, staring into the empty fireplace. When she sits here, all she feels is a gnawing emptiness in her chest. It’s better than the pain.

“I miss you, babe,” Dorcas whispers, even though she knows Marlene can’t hear her. She hopes that Marlene is somewhere nice. She hates the thought of Marlene’s ghost stuck here more than she hates the thought of being alone.

“I’m going after Voldemort,” Dorcas tells the air. She runs her hands over her freshly shaved head. Yesterday should have been wash day, but she hadn’t had it in her. So, she’d cut it all off. Last time she’d had her hair this short, she’d been thirteen and decided that she was tired of relaxers and straighteners. As she runs her hands over her head, she remembers Marls going that exact thing eight years ago.

“They thought that they could just kill you and get away with it.” Dorcas’ voice is angry now. They had taken the sun out of the sky and they thought that there would be _no repercussions?_ “But, I love you.”

* * *

It’s been nine days and twenty hours since Marlene died. Dorcas is alone, lying flat in the bushes outside of the Lestrange Mansion. 

_“He’s staying with Bella and Rodolphus,” Sirius had said. He was the only one who called the Death Eaters by their first names. Then again, he was the only one related to them. “We should go after him.”_

_“We can’t just walk into Death Eater Headquarters!” Lily had countered._

Dorcas was about to do just that. But, she didn’t have anyone waiting for her anymore. She understood Lily, who had James and Harry to think about. If she still had Marlene, Dorcas wouldn’t be here. But, they had taken Marlene, and soon they were going to regret it.

A Death Eater appeared with a crack. Dorcas hit him with an imperius curse before he took a single step. He opened the gate for her, holding his dark mark up to the metal. Once they were through, Dorcas stole his robes and killed him. She left his body sprawled on the ground. 

It was easy to get into the house from there. Dorcas could hear voices on the second floor, they echoed in the cavernous foyer. She walked up the black marble stairs with her wand in one hand. The other hand trailed up the cold marble railing. She felt strangely calm as she stepped from stone steps to plush green carpet and walked down the hall. She ignored the heavy dark wood doors with serpent-shaped handles.

“Oi,” someone appeared in the hallway in front of her. “You’re late, Snyde.”

Dorcas didn’t recognize her own voice as she cast the killing curse. The man dropped before he could say anything else. Dorcas stood in front of the door to the room the man had come out of. It looked like every other dark door in the hallway.

“This is for you, babe.” A deep breath.

_Bombarda Maxima._

The next minute is a flurry of light and sound and the ozone smell of magic. As she fights, Dorcas finds that she can cast almost twice as many attack spells as normal if she doesn’t bother with defensive spells. She’s not sure if she’s numb or angry as her wand slashes through the air. She stands on the rubble that had been a wall and a door moments ago. There are at least two bodies in the rubble. Dorcas cuts down a woman bleeding heavily from her forehead. A man whose white blonde hair is going grey goes down next. A curse hits Dorcas, and she loses feeling in her left arm; it doesn’t matter. Dorcas blasts three Death Eaters into the wall and the force of the spell brings the wall to dawn. Another spell hits Dorcas and pain spreads through her chest; she’s bleeding profusely now. It doesn’t matter. The dust from the explosions is making it hard to see. It doesn’t matter. Dorcas just fires into the dust, aiming in the general direction of spells coming back at her. She pushes forward. Her breathing is wet, the spell must have damaged a lung. 

“Master,” she can hear a male voice saying. “You should leave.”

So, he is here.

“No,” the voice that responds is cold. It’s so cold that it sends a shiver down Dorcas’ spine. She thinks of Marlene and summons every bit of Gryffindor courage she has to keep going forward. “I am fascinated by this one. I would like to see her. She’s no danger to me.”

“No danger, am I?” Dorcas demands as she steps forward. A few more steps and she can see people again. There he is. The Dark Lord. He’s a tall man and she guesses that he might have been handsome once; though, she’s never been an expert on male beauty. His pupils are red as blood and his skin is waxy and pulled too tight over his skull. He doesn’t look entirely human anymore. But, Dorcas doesn’t care. She’s no longer afraid. They’ve already done the worst that they could do to her.

Dorcas sends a killing curse at him, and he waves it aside like its nothing more than a child’s stinging hex. Dorcas tries again and again. Voldemort waves her spells away lazily. He’s smiling at her as if she’s a shiny rock or something else useless but fascinating. One of her curses hits a Death Eater standing on the sidelines, and the woman next to him screams. 

_Crucio._ The spell hits Dorcas and drives her to her knees. Dorcas lets the pain rip through her. She keeps her eyes on Voldemort. Her mind is on Marlene. She can feel tears in her eyes from the pain. 

_I’m coming to you,_ Dorcas thinks to Marlene. Her whole body is shaking with pain, but Dorcas is so full of gnawing, empty grief that the physical pain can’t quite reach her. It’s like her brain has detached from her body. 

“You are a powerful witch,” Voldemort says when the curse has worn off. “What is your name?”

“My name is Dorcas Meadowes.” Dorcas stares at him defiantly even though her breath is ragged and pained.

“A muggle name,” Voldemort says, sounding almost sad. It sounds as if he has forgotten what real sorrow feels like. “Otherwise, you could have joined us. Still, it is sad to waste power like yours.”

“You,” Dorcas feels her face curl into a snarl. She spits and saliva mixed with blood lands at his feet. “You people killed Marlene. _You. killed. her._ I would never join you.”

Voldemort raises his wand. His face still has that expression, like it's trying to be sad, when he kills her. 

* * *

Dorcas is standing somewhere white. She’s dead; she has to be. The last thing she remembers is staring down Voldemort. Looking around, she can’t see anything but white. 

“Marlene?” She asks the silence. Marlene has to be here, doesn’t she? She feels fear in her chest. No, not fear, terror. Marlene should be here! She had lost Marlene in life but in death? No, she has to be here. Dorcas can’t handle the alternative. Her heart should be pounding with how scared she is, but there’s no sound. She’d never considered the idea that there could be an afterlife without Marlene.

“Babe?” A soft voice comes from behind her. Dorcas spins around and there she is, wearing jeans and a Holyhead Harpies shirt. Dorcas’ entire body sags in relief, and she’s stumbling forward, her feet not quite doing what she wants. 

“What are you doing here so soon?” Marlene asks and her face is sad.

“I missed you,” Dorcas sobs, though that doesn’t answer the question. She reaches Marlene and clings to her. Marlene holds her tight. The smell of peppermint and vanilla fills her nose and her muscles relax of their own accord. It’s only when she feels Marlene stroking her hair that she realizes that her hair is long again. She looks at Marlene, trying to drink in every line of her face, the color of her eyes, the shape of her lips, the curve of her eyebrows. Every single bit. 

“I’m here, love,” Marlene’s voice is so gentle. “I’m here.”

**Author's Note:**

> I would really appreciate any comments as I'm just getting back into writing. I'm also looking for a beta for future marauder's era works. I'm willing to beta in return as well. 
> 
> Come say hello on tumblr, if you want: [Useless Slytherclaw](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/useless-slytherclaw)


End file.
